


Picking Poisons

by failsafe



Category: Kara no Kyoukai | The Garden of Sinners
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Incest, Taboo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/pseuds/failsafe
Summary: A history lesson, or at least a fairy tale.





	Picking Poisons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [C9T9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/C9T9/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this! Some allusions are made to canon, but the timing is a bit open to interpretation.

 

Azaka felt like she had been walking on clouds every time she saw him – her brother – and he spent time with her. The last time they had gone on an outing, just the two of them, it had been to eat dinner. It was almost like a date, and she held onto the little satisfaction, the little spark of hope, for as long as she could. It was a lightheaded feeling, to walk with her feet on the ground but her head somewhere lost, chasing after him, wherever that girl – that _person_ – had led him off to. He would have followed her anywhere. Azaka lifted her hand and tested her fingers, admiring them with an abstract kind of curiosity. If only she could find whatever power had made that possible with her brother. 

Almost instantly, she dropped her hand down onto her lap and shook her focus clear. No, she wouldn't think that. She had to be better than that. After all, Shiki had pointed out that if she weren't, she could have  _had him_ by now. She closed her eyes and controlled her breaths. She had almost anchored herself to the harsh stupidity of reality when she heard the door open. She pulled herself to the edge of the sofa cushion and looked around to see who it might be. 

It wasn't her brother. 

“Azaka,” Touko said pleasantly, or gruffly – sometimes it was hard to tell. 

“Oh,” Azaka answered, trying not to be quite so obvious with her near-constant undercurrent of disappointment. She breathed out again and the inside of her chest felt as heavy as ever. “Hello, Miss Touko,” she said. 

“You sound really excited to see me,” Touko said dryly. “Mikiya's not planning on coming around this afternoon, far as I know,” she said. 

Azaka knew there was little she could honestly say to deny why she had come there, but it made her bristle. Her face heated – with anger and with embarrassment – as Touko cut through any polite pretense. She didn't even bother with it. 

“Then teach me something about magecraft,” Azaka demanded, her only real recourse. 

Touko made a noncommittal humming noise as she shuffled through some of the contents on her desk. 

Azaka turned at her waist to watch her with glaring eyes. 

“I could at least expect to be answered,” she said after a moment, incensed. 

“Really?” Touko asked. “I thought you were just saving face,” she admitted. She reached up above her head, laced her fingers together, and stretched. She dropped her arms back down to her sides with a satisfied, audible breath. She tilted her head to either side and Azaka could hear the soft crackling as tension left Touko's body.

“That's rude,” Azaka said. 

“I know, but you might be called rude by some people if they knew you,” Touko retorted. Azaka thought she could hear a smile in her voice, though she couldn't see much of one. 

“Only when they deserve it!” Azaka snapped. 

Touko cleared her throat softly. Then she shook her head, tidying her ponytail absently. 

“That isn't what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” Azaka pressed. She didn't like it when the woman acted like there was such a gap between them that she could never understand. Even if it was true, Touko had agreed to try. 

“I meant that who you are – what you want – might be considered rude by its very nature,” Touko explained. 

Azaka scowled at her. 

“I don't want anything.” 

“Your brother is the only one who doesn't know it,” Touko said, sounding bored. 

“We've already been over this!” Azaka insisted. She was quiet for a long, tense pause that didn't seem tense at all for Touko. Touko just went about her daily business and life like there was nothing of importance being discussed here. Maybe a more normal person might have taken that as some benefit, some gain, but it annoyed Kokutou Azaka down to her bones. She set her jaw, clenched her teeth. 

“Nothing has changed, has it?” Touko asked with mild, only possibly genuine interest. 

Azaka sniffed. 

“Maybe,” she said. 

“What changed?” 

“I don't know. Now that I know everyone knows about it, maybe I can just... before anything gets worse,” Azaka mumbled with folded arms. She looked ahead at the bank of variously sized screens at nothing in particular. 

Touko seemed to stifle a laugh then, but Azaka only heard it. She turned around and sat up on her knees on the couch cushion. 

“Excuse me,” she demanded. 

“It's nothing,” Touko reassured her. “It's just that... you seem to crave the lack of acceptance,” she said. 

“That isn't true,” Azaka said. “It's... him I want, not his... not what we—”

“Not the relationship you didn't choose,” Touko offered, helpfully, assuaging some of her anger. 

“Yes,” Azaka said softly. Another pause stretched out and she interjected: “But it's never going to happen anyway. Shiki isn't going away, and he's obsessed with her.” 

“I've been told that's something like 'love,'” Touko replied. 

Azaka made a dubious sound in her own throat. She watched as Touko stood up and came to stand, hit leaning a little toward the end of the couch. Azaka slid over a bit, not sure if she was reading the body language. 

“You can sit down if you want,” she offered. 

“It's my couch,” Touko said wryly, but then she sat down beside Azaka. “Something about magecraft, hmm?” she asked. 

Azaka stared ahead, aware of Touko in her peripheral vision. She nodded. 

“I've got nothing else to do,” she said. 

“How about a history lesson? Or a fairy tale, at least,” Touko offered. 

Azaka leaned her head back, disgusted and weary. 

“Fine,” she agreed. 

“Do you know what they used to say in Europe, in ancient times, about women who could read?” Touko asked. 

Azaka tried to come up with a wry reply, but she just shook her head after a moment. 

“They used to say they were witches,” Touko finished for her, tutting a little. 

“So?” Azaka asked, rolling her head so she looked over at her, attempting to meet her eyes. 

“The point of the little story is that smart women, women who know the truth about themselves and about what they want, are often mistrusted.” 

“You... don't trust me?” Azaka asked, widening her eyes a little. She didn't know why it stung, why it hurt. 

Touko sighed and reached out, fingertips brushing her loose, dark hair back from her shoulder to smooth it behind it. Then she made another tutting sound with her tongue. She shook her head. 

“Only with yourself,” she said. 

“What do you want me to do?” Azaka asked. 

“It's not about what I want. It's about what you want... and what you can have,” Touko explained. “In the same way that you were born with this desire, your brother was born without the ability to pick up on it. So... what do you do instead?” 

“I don't know,” Azaka said, too quickly, having been hanging onto every word out of blind hope. 

“What can you do instead?” Touko prompted, like the teacher she sometimes was to her. 

“I don't know,” Azaka said. “Find a politician or a cop, another man I don't even know. Settle down,” she grumbled. “That might put a strain on my studies, though.” 

“You _could_ do that, but I don't think that's what you want,” Touko asid. 

“If you know so much, what do I want?” Azaka grumbled. 

“I told you. I don't know the specifics. What I do know is that... we, collectively, know better than to say because a woman reads she would make a decent mage now, right?” Touko asked, sounding quite a bit older than she was. When Azaka looked upon her face, it was hard to believe she was just older than them, that she hadn't yet reached thirty even though, sometimes, her eyes and her voice seemed ancient. 

“Right,” Azaka said, hesitantly. She wondered where Touko was going with it. 

“Then we can assume that one day we will collectively know something other than the fear of perversion that comes with something else you aren't 'supposed to do' that you haven't tried yet,” Touko offered with a half shrug. She turned bodily toward Azaka a little at her waist, tucking one foot beneath her. 

“What?” Azaka demanded, frowning, but then Touko leaned in and kissed her lips. Her mouth was parted to it in a moment, and it was obvious that this was no friendly gesture or custom. Azaka felt lightheaded, dizzy. Then, she felt lighter and lighter. For the first time, she kissed someone, someone kissed her, and she kissed back. 

  
  


 


End file.
